Dissolve
by Running Up Fawn
Summary: The search for a missing woman becomes something more. (Set after VfH)
1. Default Chapter

Title: Dissolve

Author: Lauren / Running Up Fawn

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: The characters you recognize belong to Steinberg, Bruckheimer, CBS, and other people who aren't me. The title is, as usual, borrowed from Guster.

Author's Note: Many thanks to S, for convincing me to write this *g*, and to Kris and Jordan for the encouragement. Thanks also to Maple Street, always, for everything. 

*

The lightweight door slammed behind her like it always did, hitting the weary frame exactly three times before finally, reluctantly, settling back into it. 

The sun was just setting over the city, and shards of brilliant orange pierced through the slender openings in the covered parking lot. 

Cool, crisp air rushed her cheeks, and she stopped admiring the sunset, averting her eyes to scan the lot for her car. She never had a problem remembering names, numbers or faces, but somehow, it always took her a few moments to remember where she parked.

Spotting her faded blue Taurus on the far side of the lot, she hurried toward it, keys in hand. She was only five spaces away when a hand slipped around her waist, soon replaced with something she'd never felt before but suspected there was nothing else in the world that felt quite like it.

The barrel of a gun, jammed hard into her spine.

"Don't say a word," a low voice whispered in her ear. "Don't scream. Don't turn around."

Oh my God..

Names, numbers and faces..and she'd never had a problem remembering voices, either.

*

"Margo Reed," Jack Malone announced as the members of his team gathered expectantly around the center of the unit. He handed Martin a glossy photograph and nodded to the whiteboard. The younger agent complied, clipping it into place as Jack continued.

"Twenty-six years old. Went missing sometime after six o'clock last night. The husband, a Simon Reed, called it in."

Jack paused for a moment, giving himself and the others time to study the picture. 

The woman stared back at them with startlingly large green eyes, set in a sharp, tanned face framed by waves of dark brown hair. There was a quiet serenity about her, a peacefulness to her small smile that transcended the blunt angles of her face. She wasn't exactly pretty, but she was beautiful.

"She's a nutrionist," Jack started again, glancing back at the file. "Lives in Chelsea. She left St. John's Hospital at six, like she does every night, according to the husband. Her car is still in the lot."

"What about security cameras in the parking lot?" Samantha asked quickly. "There should be at least one."

Jack gave her a quick nod. "Two, actually. We've got to go through those, talk to the husband and co-workers, her parents, and find out who else was in the lot at the same time as Margo last night, if she even made it that far. Martin and Danny, head to the house, talk to the husband. Find out exactly what was going on in that marriage, and see if you can get a contact number for her parents, as well. Sam and Viv, we're going to the hospital."

Nods all around.

"I called ahead to the hospital, asked them to bring in all of the patients she saw yesterday. They've offered us a spare room for questioning," Jack informed Samantha and Vivian as the three made their way toward the unit's glass doors.

"How nice," Vivian commented mildly, shrugging in response to Samantha's quick, questioning glance. "Hey, I'm just saying. Sometimes helpful is synonymous with guilty."

Jack raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You think the hospital was involved?"

"I don't know. You're the one with all the facts," she told him, softening her words with a brief smile. "They just seem to be going out of their way to help us."

"It's only an empty room, Viv," Samantha pointed out to the older agent.

"Yeah, but I've been to St. John's. They don't have rooms to spare."

"Maybe Margo's just an important part of their staff and they'd like to get her back," Jack offered. "Or maybe she was embezzling money from the hospital and someone found out. _Or_ perhaps she was abducted by aliens and taken captive to their home planet. The point is, we don't know, so let's just take their offering of a spare room and find out, okay?"

The hint of a grin played at the edges of Jack's mouth, and Vivian and Samantha had to smile as well.

"Fine, but I'm not putting any money on your alien theory," Vivian muttered as the three stepped through the doors of the FBI Building and out into the chilled morning.

*

Simon Reed sat on the edge of a wooden chair in his own kitchen and Danny couldn't remember the last time he'd seen someone look so out of place.

Perhaps it was the stricken expression on his face, a foreign contortion of mild features that seemed much better suited to smiles and laughter.

"Mr. Reed," Martin began, while Danny stood and slowly circled the well-kept room. When the other man didn't respond, the agent tried again. "Mr. Reed?"

Simon Reed looked up, startled, as though he couldn't remember letting the two agents into his home and leading them dully into the room they now occupied after their search of the Reeds' bedroom yielded nothing helpful.

"I'm sorry," he said, wearily rubbing a hand against his cheek and closing his eyes for a brief moment. "What were you saying?"

A quick exchange of glances between Martin and Danny, and Martin continued, "You told our office on the phone that your wife usually leaves work around six o'clock?"

"That's right," Simon Reed confirmed. "She usually gets home by six-fifteen unless traffic is really bad or she's stopping at the store to pick something up.." he trailed off, gazing past Martin, past Danny, out the small window above the kitchen sink.

Danny followed his eyes to the backyard complete with a wooden swing set before turning around to the kitchen once again. 

"When's the last time you spoke to her?" Danny asked, leaning against the Formica counter and regarding Simon Reed mildly.

"Uh.." the other man rubbed his forehead. "I talked to Margo around lunchtime yesterday. One o'clock, somewhere around there?" He looked at the agents as if expecting their confirmation. "I wanted to let her know I would be getting out early, so I could pick Colleen up at her grandparents' house. Colleen is our daughter. She's three," He informed them.

Neither agent had asked but they let Simon Reed continue anyway.

"She stays with Margo's parents after nursery school everyday, and one of us picks her up on the way home from work."

"So that's where you called Margo from yesterday? Work?"

Simon nodded in response to Martin's question, which only prompted another.

"And what is it you do, Mr. Reed?"

Simon replied, "I manage a small art gallery."

Danny glanced at a notepad. "So you were at work yesterday, you spoke to Margo around one o'clock, and you left at what time?"

"About five-thirty."

"To pick up your daughter," Martin continued, and Simon Reed nodded in confirmation. 

"What time did you get home?"

"Five forty-five, I guess?" The other man frowned in concentration. "Yeah, that sounds right."

"And when did you start worrying about Margo?"

Simon Reed laced his fingers together and dropped his chin onto them, studying a piece of plaster on the kitchen wall. "I started worrying at seven. I tried her cell phone, but she hadn't taken with her." A quick smile creased his face. "She's not really used to carrying it. Anyway..when it hit seven-thirty, I called the hospital. They told me she'd left the building at six, and checked the parking lot.." He took a deep breath. "Her car was still there."

"What about enemies, Mr. Reed? Can you think of any reason anyone would want to hurt you or Margo?"

He shook his head in response to Danny's question. "I tried," Simon told them. "There just isn't anyone. Margo's well-liked, and..well, I guess money is always a motive, but.." he gestured around the small but neat kitchen. "We're not exactly rolling in it."

"What's your marriage like?" Martin asked, abruptly changing the direction of the questioning. Simon Reed shrugged in response.

"I don't know what you want to hear," he told the agents honestly. "It's fine. We really haven't had any trouble at all."

Danny studied the man briefly before speaking. "Can you think of any reason Margo may have run off, or where she might have gone?"

Simon raked a hand through his hair. "She wouldn't have run off." He shook his head. "Even if we had a terrible marriage, even if Margo hated me, she wouldn't have left Colleen. Something happened to her," He finished quietly.

There was a beat of silence before Martin cleared his throat. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Reed. There's one more thing..do you have a number for Margo's parents? We'd like to speak with them."

Simon pointed to a list of numbers over the kitchen phone. "Rob and Julie. Bradshaw," he clarified, and a thoughtful look crossed his face. "Y'know, you may want to speak to Margo's brother, Dylan."

"Why's that?" Danny asked immediately. "Do you think he had something to do with her disappearance?"

"No, no," Simon held up his hands. "Of course not. It's just, they're twins and they've always been really close."

"Where can we reach him?" 

"He's probably at Víva. That's his restaurant. He and Jillian, his wife--they're always there."

"Okay. I think we've got everything we need." Danny glanced at Martin, who nodded. "If you think of anything else, Mr. Reed, give us a call. We'll let you know as soon as we know anything."

Simon Reed appeared about to speak, but swallowed whatever he was going to say and gave the agents a nod before walking them to the door.

"What do you think?" Danny asked Martin after the door had been closed behind them. Martin twirled the set of keys around his finger and shrugged. 

"Seems like he's telling the truth," Martin offered, opening the car door. Danny squinted against the sun and nodded. 

"Agreed." He pulled out a cell phone. "Let's see what Jack has for us."

TBC...


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimers in chapter one.

A/N: Thanks to everyone for the feedback—it means so much.

*

Samantha decided Vivian was right about St. John's Hospital. They were severely lacking in spare rooms, and the one Vivian had disappeared into in order to interview Margo Reed's patients was only slightly larger than Samantha's own closet.

Which wasn't very large to begin with.

Tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, she forgot about the size of the room and her closet and followed Jack through the door of St. John's security office.

Jack, in turn, was following a bulky man who had introduced himself as Frank Rhinehart and promised the agents access to yesterday's parking lot security tapes. 

"There's a camera at either end of the lot," he explained once they were all in the room (one Samantha couldn't help but note as possibly _smaller_ than her closet), and gestured to the two black and white television screens. Another man sat in front of them, and he nodded to the agents before turning back to surveillance.

"Here are the tapes from yesterday," Frank Rhinehart told them, picking up two in his broad hand. "From.." he trailed off, studying the covers. "Four-thirty PM to seven-thirty PM. One for each camera." He raised his eyes to the agents. "Those the times you need?"

"That's good for now," Jack said.

"Great." Frank gestured to a side door in the security office. "There're some old TVs and a couple VCRs in there, you guys want to stay here to watch those."

"Sure. Thanks for your help," Jack nodded, and Samantha offered a grateful smile.

"No problem. You need anything else, let me know. Frank Rhinehart," he clarified, before the agents disappeared into the side room.

It was larger than Samantha expected, and appeared to be more of a storage room than anything else, but there were, as the guard promised, two TVs equipped with VCRs and a pair of wooden chairs set up in front of them.

Jack passed Samantha a tape and gave her a wry smile before slipping his own cassette into place. She followed suit, and soon the screens were illuminated with the colorless glow of parking lot surveillance.

After getting acquainted with the layout of the lot and noting the time, Jack gave the okay to fast forward the tapes to five forty-five PM.

Samantha sat forward and studied her screen intently, chewing on her lower lip in concentration. The room was silent except for the whirring of the old VCRs, and the minutes on screen clicked by with agonizing precision. At five fifty-eight, Jack pressed pause and Samantha did the same barely a second later.

"I think I've got Margo," Jack announced.

"I think I've got someone suspicious," Samantha countered, her lips twitching into a smile. "But you go first."

Jack's tape caught the back door to the hospital, and standing frozen in the doorway on screen was the fuzzy image of a woman. Her features were almost indistinguishable, but her slight build and mane of dark hair, coupled with the time on the screen made for an almost infallible identification.

At Samantha's nod, Jack released the pause button and they watched as Margo Reed stood for a moment, then began to make her way across the lot. Halfway, she disappeared out of the camera's view just as she was approached by someone from the side.

"Damn," Jack muttered, and Samantha rolled her eyes, nodding toward her own screen. She set the tape to play, catching from behind a man who moved onto the screen from off camera and crouched down next to an indeterminate vehicle. They watched as he pulled a baseball cap over his head, moving away from the car and towards Margo Reed as soon as she appeared on screen. 

In what was only a matter of seconds, he was next to her, the side of his body pressed against hers, and an arm wrapped quickly around her back.

"She's not even looking at him," Jack observed, leaning closer. 

"But she's not looking away, either," Samantha pointed out, as the agents watched the two on screen continue walking until they exited through the opening of the covered parking and disappeared from the camera's view. She stopped the tape, leaning back in the hard wooden chair. "Do you think she knows him?"

Jack frowned before replying, "I don't know. She doesn't appear startled but maybe he didn't give her a chance to be. Let's watch these again, check for any eye witnesses. Someone had to be in that parking lot."

The tapes were rewound, and once again the only sound in the room off the side of St. John's main security office was the reluctant whirr of the twin VCRs as they spun slowly to life.

*

"So she told me I should try to include more fiber in my diet, and I informed her that my fiber intake is just fine, thank you, and then.."

Vivian dropped her head into her hand to smother a yawn, and she wondered to herself if 'Could you tell me the nature of your appointment with Margo Reed?' had been the right question to ask. She waited until the woman sitting across from her had finished explaining her health habits, and offered a smile.

"You've met with Margo Reed before, correct?" Vivian asked her.

"Once or twice."

"What did she seem like yesterday?"

The other woman shrugged. "Fine. A little pushy, of course, like _she_ knows what's best for my diet.."

At Vivian's raised eyebrow, she stopped speaking before muttering a quiet, "She was fine."

Vivian smiled. "Thank you."

*

Jack, Samantha and Vivian met in the parking lot of St. John's, where a team of crime scene techs was just finishing their search.

"We're taking her car back for an analysis," one of them informed the agents. "But it looks clean. So does the rest of the lot, unfortunately," he continued. "We'll let you know about the car as soon as possible."

They thanked him, and proceeded to walk through the parking lot.

Vivian commented, "None of the people Margo saw yesterday noticed anything different or off about her. They all said she was fine. Among other things," she couldn't help but add with a roll of her eyes.

"Well, someone was waiting for her when she left. Right here," Samantha informed Vivian as they passed the particular parking spot. A different car was sitting there, she noted in disappointment. "He came from somewhere off-camera. Behind that ledge, maybe," Samantha pointed to a small concrete wall separating the inner lot from the street. There looked to be just enough room between the top and bottom for someone to squeeze through.

"Any eye-witnesses?" Vivian asked, and Jack nodded.

"There were three other people in the lot at the time Margo left yesterday, two men and a woman," he told her. "The hospital is rounding up anyone who had an appointment that ended between five-forty and six o'clock yesterday. They'll be coming to the office."

At that moment, Jack's phone rang.

"Malone."

"Hey Jack, it's Danny. Listen, we got contact information for Margo's parents and for her twin brother, Dylan. According to the husband, they're very close."

Jack replied, "You two take the brother, then." He glanced at Vivian. "You up for the parents?"

She nodded, and Jack returned to the phone. "Great. Viv'll work the parents, and Sam and I'll take the eye-witnesses."

Danny relayed the Bradshaw's phone number to Jack.

"Hey, what'd you think of the husband?"

Jack could almost hear Danny shrug before he answered.

"Seemed honest. Nothing to indicate a troubled marriage, either."

"Okay." After filling Danny in on the tapes, Jack hung up and turned back to Vivian and Samantha.

"Danny says the husband seemed to be telling the truth," he informed them. "Apparently, Margo has a twin brother she's close to. Martin and Danny are going to see what they can get out of him."

They stopped at the opening of the parking lot, squinting against the fierce sun that did nothing to alleviate the chill in the air.

"Where'd they go from here?" Samantha asked quietly, searching the bustling streets.

Anywhere, Jack thought. They could have gone anywhere.

TBC..


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimers and all that fun stuff in chapter one.

A/N: So much thanks for the kind reviews; you guys are so awesome!

*

Looking at Dylan Bradshaw was like looking at a male carbon copy of Margo Reed.

He sat hunched over in the small office of his restaurant, his wife's hands resting reassuringly on his shoulders, and his face, though covered with a day's worth of stubble, was the same as the bluntly angled, tanned one that hung captured in a photograph on the whiteboard in the FBI office. Bloodshot green eyes raised from the floor to meet the gazes of Martin and Danny, and it was almost like the missing woman staring back at them.

"Do you have any information?" He asked in a raw voice. "Do you know where my sister is?"

"That's why we're here," Danny told him, glancing around the office. Small certificates and awards hung in modest frames on the walls, and the place generally appeared neatly kept. "Simon Reed told us you and Margo are close."

"He's right," Dylan Bradshaw replied quietly. "We are."

"What can you tell us about her disappearance?" Martin watched Dylan carefully, but the man seemed to be in a state of distraught dazedness. When he didn't answer, a fairly composed Jillian Bradshaw took over.

"Simon called here yesterday evening," she explained. "He asked if Margo had come by or called, but we hadn't seen her all day."

"You were both here yesterday?"

Both Jillian and Dylan nodded. "Around nine Simon called again, and told us she still hadn't come home. That's when we left," Dylan managed.

"And you have no idea what might have happened to your sister?" Danny asked after making a few notes.

Dylan shook his head. "No. She would never have run away, I know that much. Something happened to her."

_Something happened to her.._

Martin mused, "Funny, Simon Reed said the same thing."

Dylan Bradshaw glared at the agent. "Because it's true."

"How do you know, Dylan?" Danny arched an eyebrow at the other man.

This time the glare was from both Dylan and Jillian.

"I just told you. Margo would never just up and leave. I know her and she wouldn't. So if she didn't run off, which she _didn't, something had to've happened to her." His mouth was set in a hard line, but the beginnings of tears gathered in his bloodshot eyes._

Martin glanced at Danny, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Video footage from the parking lot at St. John's shows Margo being approached by a well-built man, Dylan, and walking out with him." Martin stopped to see the effect his words were having on Dylan Bradshaw.

Anger flushed his cheeks. "So why aren't you out looking for him? Dammit, if he does anything to her.." Dylan trailed off and his head fell into his hands. He rubbed his eyes before returning a pleading gaze to the agents. "What do you want from me?"

"Hey, Dylan. We want to know who this guy is, okay? Can you help us with that?"

"New York is full of well-built men, Agent Taylor," he replied in a strained voice. "I have no idea which one is responsible for my sister's disappearance. I wish I did." His face darkened with his final words.

"There's no one you can think of? Someone your sister may have been seeing, possibly, or someone from the past?"

"Someone she may have been _seeing?" Dylan spat back, and there was a desperate tone to his words. "Margo wasn't seeing __anyone. She would never do that to Simon or Colleen."_

"What about her past?" Martin asked smoothly.

Dylan gave a short laugh. "Her past is my past. No. Margo doesn't have any enemies, past or present. No one has any reason to hurt her."

Danny studied Dylan and Jillian Bradshaw closely before giving a brisk nod. "I think we're finished here. Agent Fitzgerald?"

"I guess we are. Please call us if you think of anything," Martin replied, directing his words to both of the Bradshaws. "We'll be in touch with any information."

Danny and Martin made their way through the small but bustling restaurant, and out the glass doors.

"Hiding something?" Martin muttered once they were in the parking lot.

Danny stopped at the car and glanced back to the brick building.

_Something.._

"Oh yeah."

*

"I can't believe this is happening." Julie Bradshaw rubbed the moisture from her cheeks and raised entreating eyes to Vivian. "When Simon called yesterday..oh God.."

Vivian waited patiently in the Bradshaw living room while Robert Bradshaw whispered a few words to his wife, and when she appeared as composed as she was going to get, the agent continued.

"Can you tell me what happened yesterday? Did you speak to or see Margo at all?"

Robert replied, "Margo, no. Simon called and said he would come by to pick Colleen up after work, and he did, around five forty-five. The next we heard from him was at eight thirty, and he wanted to know the same thing you're asking, if we'd seen or talked to Margo."

"The last time we talked to Margo was a few days ago," Julie added, compulsively tearing at the tissue her husband had given her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw, surveillance of the St. John's parking lot shows your daughter being approached by and leaving with a well-built man. Do you have any idea who that might be?"

Julie Bradshaw's face dropped back into her hands, and Robert put a comforting arm around her shoulders. " 'A well-built man'?" He repeated with a helpless shrug. "I don't know, Agent Johnson. We're close with Margo, but we certainly aren't aware of everyone she's acquainted with."

Vivian nodded in understanding. "Of course not. Can you think of anywhere Margo may have gone, maybe, if she wanted to get away?"

Julie offered a tight smile. "Get away from what? She loves her job. She loves Simon and Colleen. If there's something for Margo to run away from, I don't know what it is."

Robert Bradshaw picked up his wife's hand, meeting Vivian's steady gaze. "Something is very wrong here," he said quietly. "My daughter would never leave her husband and her child, Agent Johnson."

"We're doing everything we can," Vivian told him, though she wasn't sure why his words warranted her assurance. 

Heavy silence was her only response. 

*

Samantha waited for Ellen Monroe to finish her wide-eyed inspection of the interview room before she began her questioning.

"You had an appointment at St. John's Hospital yesterday afternoon, correct?" Samantha established, and the older woman nodded.

"Yes, I needed a new prescription." Worry clouded her features. "That's..that's not a crime, is it? See, I have this--"

"It's not a crime," Samantha assured her. "You haven't done anything wrong. Mrs. Monroe, have you ever seen this woman?" Samantha passed a photo of Margo Reed across the bare table.

She pulled a pair of glasses out of her purse and studied it intently before raising her eyes in surprise. "Yes," Ellen answered. "I saw her yesterday in the parking lot." She leaned closer to Samantha, lowering her voice to a conspiring tone, as if she and Samantha weren't the only two in the room. "I remember because I thought she might be having an affair."

"Why did you think that?" Samantha asked mildly.

"She left the lot with a man, and she didn't even look at him when he approached her." A frown now creased the older woman's face. "You know, _maybe_ she ended the affair and this man wasn't happy about it. He snuck up from behind her and I found that very odd." Her voice dropped to a whisper again. "People don't always want things to end, you know." A beat of silence. "Why are you asking about this woman, anyway?"

"She's missing," Samantha informed Ellen, who shook her head.

"How terrible."

"Yeah, it is," Samantha answered. "Mrs. Monroe, can you tell me what the man looked like?"

"Well, let's see." She frowned in concentration. "I couldn't see his face well, but he was tall. Taller than her, and muscular." A regretful smile. "I really couldn't see much."

"That's okay. Thank you for your help."

Ellen Monroe nodded, and looked around the room once more before slipping out the door.

*

"Yeah. Yeah, I saw her yesterday. At the, uh, hospital. I had an appointment for my knee." Benjamin McClennan slid the photograph back across the table to Jack. "She was in the parking lot when I left."

"What else did you see, Ben?" Jack leaned against the wall and regarded the younger man mildly.

Ben shrugged. "She walked out with some guy. That's it."

"Any idea what this guy looked like?"

"Nah. He had a Knicks cap on. Leather jacket, maybe?"

"Let me get this straight," Jack said, pushing off the wall and taking a seat across from Benjamin McClennan. "You remember he was wearing a Knicks cap, but nothing else?"

A stony glare from Ben. "Hey, I'm from Chicago. I hate the Knicks."

"Well, you're in New York now, Benny. C'mon, I want anything you can think of about this guy."

"I _told_ you, I don't remember. I could barely see his face, anyway."

Jack gave a heavy sigh. "What'd you notice about them together?"

Benjamin shrugged. "They didn't look happy, I remember that."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Hell, they weren't even looking at each other. Kinda weird."

"Got anything else for me, Ben?" Jack watched him closely.

"Nope. I left right after I saw them."

"Okay. That's enough for now, but this woman?" Jack touched the picture that stared up at them from the table. "She's missing, and if you can think of anything else, you give me a call."

Ben nodded a little uncertainly, and avoided Jack's eyes as he headed for the door.

*

"Hey."

Samantha met Jack in the hall outside of their final interview room, and they stopped just before heading inside.

"I got nothing. Witness says she couldn't see the guy's face because of the baseball cap he was wearing," Samantha told him.

Jack glanced into the room before replying. "Same here. Although I did receive one gemstone of information," he said wryly.

Samantha looked at him curiously. "What's that?"

"It was a Knicks cap."

An exaggerated eye roll from the blonde agent. "Yeah, there's the case cracker."

*

"I had an appointment for my back," James Larkin told Jack and Samantha, resting forward on the table. He stopped speaking, watching them curiously. "I'm not sure why I'm here."

In response, Jack slid the photograph of Margo Reed across the table. "That woman is missing," he told the other man. "She was also in the parking lot at the same time as you yesterday."

A raised eyebrow from James Larkin. "So..?"

"So did you see her, or anything suspicious in the lot after your appointment?" Samantha cut in sharply.

"Oh." He studied the picture more closely. "Yeah, now that I'm looking at this, I do remember seeing her. She was with some guy," he told them.

"What'd the guy look like?" Jack asked.

James Larkin frowned. "Ah, tall, kind of built..I don't know, I didn't get a good look at him."

"Of course not," Samantha muttered in frustration, and James shrugged.

"Hey, I wasn't really paying much attention to them. I didn't know she was going to go missing."

Jack raked a hand through his hair. "It's okay. Look, can you think of anything else about them?"

The other man shook his head. "I'm sorry." He looked at the picture again. "I wish I could help you out."

The agents were silent, and James looked back and forth between them before speaking again. "Can I go now? I'm sorry, just, this chair is hell for my back."

"Yeah, you can go. Call us if you think of anything," Jack told him.

"Jesus," Samantha breathed when he had left. "Since when are eye-witnesses so damn useless?"

Jack leaned back to meet her frustrated gaze, and shook his head slightly, glancing at Margo's photograph. "They all saw her and dismissed her."

Or fabricated stories about her, Samantha added silently before meeting the eyes of the woman in the picture herself.

_Anywhere.._

TBC...


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimers can be found in the first chapter.

A/N: I can't thank everyone enough for the reviews..you guys are so wonderful! Thank you.

*

_Bring $10,000 in unmarked bills to the alley behind __West 12th Avenue__ at __seven PM__ tonight. Drive halfway into the alley and get out with the money in a plain duffel bag. Don't look for anyone. I will find you and make the exchange: Margo for the ten thousand. Be there with the money at seven, and do not speak with the police._

Dylan Bradshaw took several deep breaths and glanced feverishly around his office. Satisfied that he was alone, he dropped the red ink stained white paper onto his desk.

What are you doing, Margo? Wha--

Heart racing, he leaned closer to the words and sucked in a fierce gasp of air.

Jesus..

Folding the paper back into the envelope marked with only his first name, he slipped it into his pocket and left his silent office behind.

*

"So the eye-witnesses were worthless?" Vivian asked Jack and Samantha when the team had gathered back at the unit. 

"They all verified what we saw on the tapes. Nothing else," Samantha told her, and Jack nodded.

"Danny, Martin, how'd it go with the brother?"

"He's convinced that Margo would never run off with anyone," Martin replied. "According to Dylan, something had to've happened to her."

"Did he have any idea what?" Jack asked, and both agents shook their heads.

"I'm running background on the family," Danny told him. "Someone's not telling us something."

Jack nodded. "Good. We need her credit card and phone records, too, and I want to see what we can get out of her co-workers."

Before Jack could start dividing up assignments, Danny looked up from his computer, barely concealing a smile.

"Hey, Jack, guess what Julie Bradshaw's maiden name is?"

Jack shrugged. "What is it, Danny?"

"McClennan. _And_ she has an older brother, who used to live in Chicago." The small smile became a full-fledged grin. "He has a son."

"Named Ben." Samantha filled in, looking to Danny who nodded in confirmation.

"Christ," Jack shook his head. "He's Margo's cousin." Wearily, he turned to Martin. "Check the other witnesses, make sure neither of them occupy branches of Margo's family tree. Danny--"

"Wait, listen to this," Danny cut Jack off, scanning his computer screen. "Margo and Dylan had an older brother, William."

"_Had_?" Vivian said with a raised eyebrow. "What happened?"

"William was murdered when he was nineteen," Danny told the other agents. "Ten years ago, so Margo and Dylan were sixteen. Anyway, they put someone away for it, but about a month ago he was released on new evidence."

Jack rubbed his eyes in frustration. "Who'd they put away?"

Danny held up a hand, searching the screen before replying, "Guy named Cameron Marks."

"We're going to need to talk to him," Jack said immediately. "But let's get Ben McClennan and the Bradshaws in here first. Martin, run a quick check on the other witnesses, then Margo's credit card and phone records. Danny, see what you can find out about William Bradshaw's murder." Turning to Samantha, he said, "Let's see if Ben'll tell you the truth."

*

"Hey, Ben," Samantha smiled at the wary-looking man, who said nothing but offered a shaky smile in return. "Know why you're here?"

Ben McClennan shook his head, and relaxed enough to allow himself a bit of indignance. "I already told you people everything I know.."

"See, there's the problem, Ben." The smile faded from Samantha's face as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a glare. "You didn't tell us anything." She pushed a picture of Margo across the table. "You forgot to mention that Margo Reed is your cousin."

For a split second, Ben's gaze left hers and swung to the door, but surprise and fear quickly gave way to defeat, and he sat back in his chair. "Okay. I guess I didn't tell you that."

Samantha folded her arms across her chest and pinned Ben to his seat. "Why?"

She had to give him a bit of credit for not spouting out the tiresome 'I didn't think it was important' line when he finally spoke.

"I was scared," he said honestly. "I didn't realize the woman in the lot was Margo until I saw that guy start walking with her, and when you called me in here the first time.."

Samantha's raised eyebrow prompted a continuation.

"I thought it had something to do with William, okay? Now that Cameron's out.."

Frowning, Samantha stopped him. "What do you know about William and Cameron Marks?"

Ben sighed. "I moved to New York when I was twenty-one, started hanging out with William and his crowd. They were heavy into the drug scene, and I was too, until Will got shot and Cameron got put away for it. After that.." Ben trailed off.

"Why do you think what's happened to Margo has anything to do with her brother's murder?" Samantha asked.

"Hell, I don't know. It might not. I'm just saying, it's weird that she goes missing around the time Cameron gets out, is all."

"Have you spoken to Cameron?" Samantha watched him closely, but Ben shook his head.

"No. I haven't seen him since Will was killed."

"Are you sure? Because you've lied to us before, Ben, which makes it a little difficult for me to trust you.."

"Look, I swear. I should have told you that Margo's my cousin, but I'm not lying about this. No way. I haven't been anywhere near that crowd for years." Leaning forward, he lowered his tone to a whisper. "Will was in debt. Like, thousands in debt. I figured that's why he was killed, and I got myself out of that kind of life."

"We're going to need to talk to you again, Ben," Samantha said slowly, her mind reeling.

Ben McClennan looked less than enthusiastic about the idea, but nodded. "You obviously know where to find me," he told her.

"No more lies," Samantha warned him as he stood to leave, and she figured the slight dip of his head would have to suffice for a promise of honesty.

*

Robert and Julie Bradshaw looked terrified and small sitting in the FBI interview room, and Jack wondered briefly if they were remembering ten years ago and the implications of rooms like this.

Vivian glanced at him briefly before beginning.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw, why didn't you tell us about your oldest son?" The question was asked in Vivian's gentle, soothing tone, but even so Julie Bradshaw's face paled whiter than it already was, and tears gathered immediately in her eyes.

"What does Will's murder have to do with Margo?" Robert asked, clutching his wife's hand.

"It could have everything to do with her," Jack replied. "Especially since the man accused of killing your son has been released from prison."

Julie Bradshaw shook her head. "I still don't understand," she said tearfully. "That was ten years ago, and Margo wasn't involved in any way. She was only sixteen! Why would Cameron Marks want to hurt her?"

"We don't know," Vivian answered. "But it's a possibility."

"Have you had any contact with Cameron since his release?" Jack wanted to know, and both Bradshaws shook their heads.

"Cameron and Will were friends," Robert told the agents. "But he.." A deep breath. "He was the one who introduced Will to drugs in the first place. I don't know if he killed my son or not," he said honestly. "It seemed that way at first, but these new witnesses were enough to get him out and re-open the case."

"New witnesses?" Vivian repeated.

"Not witnesses of Will's death," Julie clarified. "But two people now swear Cameron was on the other side of town the night he died."

"Where were they ten years ago?" Jack wondered.

Robert Bradshaw shrugged. "I don't know. Scared, maybe." He shook his head. "They didn't tell us much. You'd have to speak with NYPD for that information."

"We've got agents on it," Vivian assured him.

Julie, wringing her pale hands, said, "I still don't see where Margo fits into this." 

"She may not," Jack told her honestly. "But if she does, we need to know as much as possible."

"Please," Julie pleaded. "Get what you need from the police. I can't..I can't relive that, not now, with my daughter gone too.."

Jack and Vivian exchanged glances. 

"We're going to need to speak to you again," Vivian said gently. 

The Bradshaws nodded and left the room, broken but supporting each other as they went.

*

"Margo's phone and bank records are normal," Martin told Vivian, Samantha and Jack when they had finished relaying the highlights of their interviews. "Maybe the husband and brother are right, and something really did happen to her."

"It would seem that way," Jack muttered. "We need to talk to the brother again, and find Cameron Marks. Martin, I want you, Vivian and Danny on the William Bradshaw case and this Marks. Sam, you and I'll have a talk with Dylan Bradshaw. Maybe he'll remember something he conveniently forgot to tell Martin and Danny."

As if on cue, a young agent led an uncertain-looking Jillian Bradshaw into the center of the unit. She scanned the faces of the team for a moment before speaking. 

"Dylan's gone."

*

"He just left the restaurant," Jillian told Jack and Samantha once they'd ushered her into an interview room. "He was reading mail in his office, and then he walked out. I tried to ask where he was going, but..he didn't stop, or listen, and his phone isn't on.." She buried her head in her hands. "I don't know what's happening."

"What time did he leave?" Samantha asked.

Jillian wiped her eyes. "Around six, I think," she replied. "I know it's only been a few hours, and it may be nothing, but with Margo gone..oh God, I don't know.."

"You said he was reading mail?" Jack asked, and she nodded in confirmation. "Business or personal?"

Shrugging, Jillian replied, "Business. He always reads it as soon as it comes."

"Hand-delivered?" Samantha wanted to know, exchanging a quick glance with Jack.

"We have a box in the waiting area," Jillian explained, a little perplexed. "The carrier just puts it in there everyday."

"Does everyone have access to this box?" 

"Well..I guess so.." the other woman answered. "What's going on?"

"There may have been a ransom note," Jack told her. "Did you look through the mail when your husband left the restaurant?"

Jillian nodded slowly. "Yes, but there certainly wasn't a ransom note in the stack."

"We need his bank records," Jack said quickly, and Samantha nodded, slipping out of the room.

"Mrs. Bradshaw, you're sure you have no idea where Dylan was going?"

Shaking her head, Jillian replied, "I don't know. I was just afraid, so I came here..Agent Malone, why would someone ask Dylan for the ransom money? Why not Simon?"

"I'm not sure," Jack told her. "What kind of car does your husband drive?"

"A Nissan," Jillian said, swallowing the tears that threatened to overflow. "Pathfinder. It's silver."

"Thank you," Jack told her. "We're going to run these things down, Mrs. Bradshaw, and we'll let you know as soon as we have any information."

"Okay," she replied uncertainly, looking around as if for some kind of instruction. "Okay," Jillian repeated, and left the room slowly.

*

"Dylan made two five-thousand dollar withdrawals this afternoon," Samantha announced to Jack and Vivian. "He has three separate bank accounts."

"Ten thousand dollars?" Vivian said. "That's not much of a ransom."

"Yeah, well, maybe it's not all about the money," Jack pointed out, just as Vivian's cell phone rang.

"You think it has something to do with Will Bradshaw's murder?" Samantha wanted to know, and Jack shrugged.

"It's all we've got right now."

"Not anymore." Vivian hung up the phone. "Dylan's car was just found in some alley behind West 12th. Forensics is going to meet us there."

"We should bring Jillian, make sure the car's his," Samantha suggested, and Jack nodded.

"Let's go. Viv, call Danny and Martin at NYPD, let them know what's going on?"

"Sure," she replied, pulling out her phone again as the three made their way to the unit's exit.

*

"That's his car," Jillian whispered from the back seat of the government issued vehicle. Samantha had just pulled into the alley, and Jack glanced back at the shaken woman.

"You're sure?"  
  
She nodded. "Positive."

As they left the car and Vivian approached from the opposite side of the alley, a young crime scene technician made his way over to the agents, holding a plastic bag in his gloved hand.

"The car was open," he informed them. "We found this on the passenger seat. We're not quite finished processing yet, but there doesn't appear to be any obvious sign of a struggle or blood."

"Thanks," Jack told him, taking the plastic bag.

Inside was a small sheet of white paper, marred by the lines of red ink that had pointed Dylan to the alley in which they now stood.

"Ten thousand," Samantha read off the note. "Viv's right, Jack. That's nothing."

Jack and Vivian glanced to the deserted Pathfinder.

"I guess it wasn't about the money," Vivian said.

"Jesus. We've got two missing now," Jack pointed out in frustration.

Samantha added, "Two missing and a ten year old murder case." 

Before anyone could reply, Jillian Bradshaw approached them.

"Can I..can I see that?" She asked.

They exchanged glances, and, shrugging, Jack handed her the bag.

Her eyes flicked quickly over the words and widened in shock as she raised them to the agents.

"This is Margo's handwriting."

TBC…


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimers in chapter one.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck with this—you're all way too kind.

*

"Jillian Bradshaw is right," FBI handwriting analyst Victoria Silverman told Jack, tapping the ransom note and a sample of Margo Reed's handwriting. "These are identical. Your girl wrote this ransom note."

"Thanks," Jack said, offering a grateful smile as he reached for the note.

But Victoria wasn't finished. "There's more here. Look closely at the ransom note."

Perplexed, Jack leaned closer to the white paper and blood-red ink.

"She pressed down harder on some of the letters," Jack realized with a frown.

"Three specific letters," Victoria pointed out. "Starting with the "w" in West 12th, every "w", "i", and "l" is emphasized."

"Will." Jack spoke the name quietly, still studying the note. 

"What does that mean?" Victoria asked, curious.

"I don't know," Jack told her honestly. "I don't know."

*

"She was trying to warn Dylan?" Samantha postulated after Jack had told the team about Victoria Silverman's analysis of the ransom note.

"It makes sense," Vivian agreed. "That's quick-thinking, too."

Martin frowned. "So we're assuming she was forced to write the note?"

"I think that's a fair assumption," Jack pointed out. "But no matter why she wrote it, we know her disappearance has something to do with William Bradshaw's death."

"Well, the case against Cameron Marks was weak," Danny put in, glancing at his notes. "The only piece of evidence that put him away was his fingerprint on a shell casing found at the scene."

"_The only piece of evidence_?" Jack repeated. "Sounds like pretty strong evidence to me."

"No gun was ever found, nor was one ever registered to Cameron Marks. No eye-witnesses. No motive." Martin continued where Danny left off. 

Samantha asked, "What _was the scene, anyway?"_

"Fairway Park. Small, not in such a good area," Danny replied. "It's only a few blocks from where Robert and Julie Bradshaw live now, which happens to be where Will, Margo and Dylan grew up. It's also not far from Cameron Marks's former residence."

"But he went down protesting his innocence," Vivian said, frowning in concentration. "How'd he explain his print on the shell casing?"

"He couldn't," Martin told her. "Or he wouldn't," the agent amended grimly. "And even with the lack of other evidence, the defense couldn't make a case for him."

"Until these new witnesses," Jack ventured, and both Danny and Martin nodded.

"An older man and his wife now swear they remember seeing Cameron outside of their store at the time of the murder, around midnight. They clammed up ten years ago because--"

"They were scared," Vivian interjected.

"Right," Danny confirmed. 

"So what changed?" Samantha asked, propping her head on her hand.

"For starters, Cameron's lawyer," Martin said. "Apparently, Cameron's been trying to clear his name since he was put in prison, and he found a guy that was willing to work for cheap. He tracked down the witnesses, persuaded them into coming forward."

"They have no motive to lie. They don't even know Cameron," Danny finished.

"So how does this all relate to Margo and Dylan?" Jack asked. "We're looking for two missing people, not trying to solve Will Bradshaw's murder."

"We may need to do both," Samantha pointed out. "I think Margo's already told us that."

A contemplative silence fell over the room.

"We need Cameron Marks and we need him soon," Jack finally said. "And we need to speak with Simon and Jillian."

"Cameron Marks is under the radar," Danny said. "But we've got people looking for him. He won't have left the city."

"Why do you think that?" Jack wanted to know.

"Because even though he's out, he still wants to clear his name," Martin reminded him. "To do that, he needs to stick around."

A slow nod from Jack. "In the meantime, we should get Simon and Jillian in here right away."

Vivian glanced at the clock. "It's after eleven-thirty, Jack, and Simon Reed has a little girl."

Jack gave a heavy sigh, but assented. "Jillian Bradshaw, then. I don't think there's any way she missed Margo's message in that note."

*

The other woman's eyes were raw and desperate, and Samantha noticed that she compulsively picked at the skin on her fingers, drawing angry drops of blood from several.

Jack gave her the okay to start the questioning, and Samantha cleared her throat gently.

"You read the ransom note," Samantha began, studying Jillian Bradshaw carefully. "You saw what Margo was trying to tell Dylan, didn't you?"

Jillian's eyes slid closed and she bit her lip, but nodded.

"What do you know about Will Bradshaw's murder, Jillian?" Samantha decided there was no sense in dancing around the issue, not when two people were already missing.

It was a long moment before she spoke. "I don't think anyone else knows this, besides Dylan and Margo. I'm pretty sure Margo never even told Simon."

"Knows what?" Jack asked from his seat in the corner of the room.

"He told me never to tell anyone.." But Jillian's voice trailed off in defeat; she had already made up her mind. "Dylan and Margo were sixteen when Will was killed. Dylan told me Will had been into drugs for awhile, but no one knew how bad it was until.." she shrugged, shaking her head. "Until it was too late."

Jillian Bradshaw still dug at her skin, but the desperation in her eyes was gone, replaced by a grim determination.

"Dylan called it hero worship, the way he and Margo looked up to Will. He said they used to follow him places, cover for him..he wasn't a bad guy, according to Dylan, just confused..lost, I think, is the word he used. Anyway, on the night he died, Will snuck out of the house around midnight. Margo and Dylan followed him."

Samantha's eyes flew to Jack, who looked as surprised as she felt.

Jillian Bradshaw continued, oblivious to the reeling minds of the agents. "He ended up at some park near their house and he never knew Margo and Dylan were behind him." Jillian drew a deep breath. "There was a guy there waiting for him. They seemed friendly enough at first, but then this guy started asking Will for his money. It turns out Will owed him twenty grand." She stopped speaking for a moment, shaking her head, and lifted her eyes to Samantha's. 

"How does a nineteen year old end up twenty thousand in debt?" The question was barely a whisper, and somehow Samantha knew she wasn't expecting an answer.

"They fought for a few minutes, and the guy pulled out a gun. He shot Will in the chest, just like that, and Margo and Dylan saw it. They saw their brother's murder," Jillian finished quietly.

"The guy in the park wasn't Cameron Marks, was he?" Samantha spoke after a moment had passed, and the other woman shook her head slowly.

"Margo and Dylan were standing by a group of trees," Jillian remembered. "And Will's killer saw them." A single tear started its slow journey down her pale cheek, but she managed a tremulous smile. "Dylan said Margo..Margo tried to protect him, to push him behind the trees so the guy wouldn't see him." She shook her head. "It was too late, though. He had the gun on them and he told them..he told them if they ever said anything, he would kill them. So they didn't. I'm the only person Dylan ever told."

"Jesus." Samantha shook her head. "So they never came forward, and Cameron Marks took the fall."

"And it looks like we have two suspects now," Jack pointed out. "Cameron Marks and Will Bradshaw's murderer."

*

The door was slightly ajar, as it had been so many times before when time crept toward morning, its position not so much an invitation but an addiction, and Samantha pushed it open farther, slipping into Jack's office.

He looked up from his work and gave her that smile she saw so often, the half-distracted one he gave everyone except the one he saved for her was just a little wider and always spread to his eyes.

"Hey," he said quietly, folding a file closed and standing.

"Danny, Martin and Viv headed out about a half hour ago," she replied by way of greeting. 

Jack rubbed his eyes, looked at the clock, and nodded. "We should get some sleep too."

"You want to.." Samantha trailed off, never quite sure how to word what she wanted to say, so instead she moved forward and touched his hand softly.

And Jack had always understood, but the sharp regret that found its way onto his face tonight was foreign to the otherwise familiar exchange.

"I can't," came his whispered reply. "Sam, I can't."

It was like a sucker punch to the gut, but she stepped back, swallowed and nodded, tight-lipped. "I understand."

"Samantha.."

"I'm, uh.." she shook her head and gave a short, embarrassed laugh. "I'm just going to go. I'll see you in the morning." A decisive nod, and she avoided his eyes, turning and walking toward the door.

No, Jack wanted to call desperately after her. No, you _don't understand._

Don't go..

But he watched the door, once her signal, her invitation, close behind her, saw her hesitate for a fraction of a second before continuing down the hall, and felt his palm burn where her feather light touch had been only moments before.

Sam..

I'm sorry.

TBC..


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimers, etc., in chapter one.

A/N: I don't know how to thank everyone for the incredible feedback; it means so much. Thank you!!

*

Two pairs of steady green eyes stared at her unwaveringly, and Samantha found herself a little uneasy under their heavy scrutiny.

Margo and Dylan were so alike they were almost extensions of each other, and glancing at their pictures, pinned up side by side on the whiteboard, she felt a flicker of desperation.

Time was never on their side.

Soon the rest of the team assembled around the table, Samantha meeting Jack's tired eyes for the briefest of instants before she turned her attention to Danny.

"We've got agents camped out in front of Cameron Marks's place," he told them. "We should have him by mid-morning, early afternoon. He can't stay away forever."

"Good," Jack said with a nod. "We're bringing Simon Reed in, see if he knows anything about what Jillian Bradshaw told us yesterday. Maybe a change of scenery'll jog his memory a bit. Danny and Martin, I want you there when Cameron Marks gets home. Samantha and Viv, we'll work the husband."

Samantha. So that's how it was going to be. But she gave a brisk nod and stood with the rest of the team, because the twin pools of green reminded her exactly where her head needed to be.

Especially as time ticked away.

*

Martin and Danny joined the four agents who had been watching Cameron Marks's apartment since the pre-dawn hours, offered coffee and saw weary eyes spark with gratitude.

"No activity," one of them reported. "No one's been here."

"Yeah, well, he will be," Martin assured, checking his watch. "It's still early."

"No noise from inside the apartment, either," another offered, shifting position in his uncomfortable folding chair.

"Been real quiet," the third summed up with a wry smile.

Danny and Martin opted out of the remaining chairs and chose to stand instead, leaning against the wall's hard plaster.

It wasn't ten minutes later they were exchanging quick glances and then turning their eyes to the source of heavy footsteps headed toward the room they stood in front of.

The man stopped just a few feet short of his door, swathed in shadows until he took a bewildered step forward.

"What's going on?" His voice was guarded, uncertain, but there was no threat to his questioning tone.

"Cameron Marks?" Danny answered the query with one of his own, and the broad, dark-skinned man nodded.

"Agents Fitzgerald and Taylor," Martin told him, flashing credentials. "We need to speak with you immediately."

*

"Mr. Reed, Margo and Dylan witnessed the murder of their brother."

She stood behind the glass and watched as Jack's words took their effect on Simon Reed.

Disbelief was the man's first reaction, as Samantha had assumed it would be. She saw Jack and Vivian exchange glances before Vivian took over, soothing the genuinely distraught Simon Reed while at the same time bolstering Jack's original statement with facts gleaned from Jillian Bradshaw.

"So what does this mean?" He finally asked in a quietly determined voice.

Samantha's phone rang before she had time to hear the reply, and she forgot about it in the anxious moments she spent listening to the man on the other end of the line.

Flipping her own phone closed, she picked up the one that would allow her to speak with the agents in the interview room.

It was Jack who answered the ring. "What's going on?" The urgency in his tone let her know he was aware of who was making the call.

"We have to go, Jack," she told him. "I just talked to NYPD. Some kid heard crying from inside an old warehouse, called the police. One of the responding officers recognized the woman as Margo." Samantha paused, but just for a moment. "She's in bad shape. Shot in the gut," and she hated the blunt words that forced themselves from her mouth.

"Shit," Jack closed his eyes briefly. "Okay. You have the location?"

She repeated it to him.

"Viv and I'll meet you downstairs," Jack told her.

They hung up, and Samantha didn't wait around to hear Jack's explanation through the glass.

She was out the door and into the middle of the unit, slowing only for a fraction of a second as her eyes caught Margo Reed's and though the picture hadn't changed, Samantha thought she saw fear in the woman's face for the first time.

_Something happened to her.._

*

The ride to the warehouse was terse. Samantha drove fast but a part of her didn't want to reach their destination, and, judging by the tense silence that surrounded her, she figured Jack and Vivian felt the same way.

"The officer's sure it's Margo?" Jack finally asked when they got closer, and Samantha nodded, making a sharp left turn.

"He saw her picture. Remembered her face."

"What about medics?" Vivian wanted to know.

"Officer says they called for an ambulance right before calling us," Samantha replied, settling the car against the curb and throwing it into park.

Indeed, they stepped out of the vehicle to the wail of sirens, and, making their way through a crowd of bystanders, the agents collectively broke into a run when they reached the back door of the warehouse.

Pushing it open and flashing credentials at the surprised officers, they were immediately assaulted with the sharp, coppery scent of blood mixed with the dust and neglect of the vast, high-ceilinged warehouse, and locating Margo wasn't hard.

Jack and Vivian slowed when they saw the woman, surrounded by medics and officers, being lifted carefully onto a gurney, her eyes glazed, hands covered in what they presumed was her own blood.

Jack and Vivian slowed and stopped, but Samantha fought her way to the woman's side, careful to avoid the medic frantically attending to the glaring gunshot wound.

"Ma'am.." A few of the officers cautioned her, and Samantha thought she heard a warning "Sam!" from Jack, but she ignored the words, looking down into the pale, blood and tear streaked face of Margo Reed.

A moment of indecision, and then she took the woman's bloodied hand in her own, applying gentle pressure even as the sticky warmth stained her palm and shirt.

"Margo," Samantha started, and she attempted to answer through dry, colorless lips.

"Dylan.." she managed, swallowing hard. "I tried..God..so sorry.." For a moment, the glazed look was gone and Margo was pleading with Samantha to listen and understand. "I'm so sorry.."

Then the gurney was moving, Samantha along with it even though she was unaware of the motion, and she knew time was slipping away, but her tongue stuck in her throat and she couldn't, wouldn't, pump the dying woman for information, even as they made their way through the door and into the fiery sunlight, and Margo's eyes slid shut, her hand falling from Samantha's.

She watched, immobile, as the medics loaded the bleeding Margo Reed into the back of the ambulance and peeled away.

Samantha spun around in what felt like slow motion, unsure of what she was looking for, and finally fell against the hard brick building, allowing it to support the bulk of her weight.

"Fuck!" Samantha gasped, tears momentarily blurring her vision as she glanced down at her stained hands. "Oh, hell.." She wiped the moisture fiercely away and couldn't bring herself to care about the line of red now painted across her cheek.

Samantha looked up in time to see Jack making his way through the crowd and over to her, his stature blocking out the worst of the sun.

She stood in his shade for what felt like a second and an eternity, and finally broke the silence.

"She just.." Samantha swallowed hard and didn't dare to look into his eyes, focusing instead on her hands. "She was right there and I couldn't ask her for anything useful, and then they took her away and oh God, it shouldn't have been me, it should have been her husband or her little girl.."

Jack frowned, touching her shoulder. She tensed but didn't pull away, and he spoke in a quiet tone. "It shouldn't have been you? What're you talking about, Sam?"

Finally, she dared to slide her gaze from brilliant red to the darkness of his eyes.

"She's gone, Jack," Samantha told him, her voice shaking. "Maybe not officially yet but I saw it in her face. She died right here and I couldn't even tell her that it was going to be okay, and I shouldn't have been the last person she saw," she finished in an almost inaudible whisper.

Jack wasn't sure how to respond, or even if there was anything to say, so he merely regarded Samantha quietly, one hand still resting lightly on her shoulder.

After a moment, Samantha straightened.

"I need to find a bathroom, wash this off," she informed him. "I'll be back in five."

"We're going to talk to the officers and the kid who made the call," Jack said, giving her arm a slight squeeze before removing his hand. "Just join us when you're ready."

Samantha looked as though she was about to speak, but gave a slight nod instead and headed down the congested street.

Oh Sam..

Jack held her in his gaze for a long, slow moment, before turning back to the crowd of somber uniformed officers.

_She's gone.._

As much as he didn't want to believe her, Samantha's firm words settled like lead in the pit of his stomach and he knew the blonde agent would never give up hope unless there was none left.

No, he wanted to yell after her, no, it shouldn't have been you because..

Because it's going to haunt you, Sam, her eyes and her blood and her life..

Jack shook his head, pushed the image of the dying Margo Reed gripping Samantha's hand in her own out of his mind, and forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

Which was finding out exactly what had happened to Margo, and making absolutely certain Dylan Bradshaw wasn't subjected to the same fate.

*

"I was looking for my football," the boy told Vivian, wiping a hand across his face. "I lost it around here yesterday."

Kyle Templin was eleven years old but looked eight or nine, with his slight build and the streaks of dirt marching across his freckled face.

"So you were looking around back here," Vivian established, "And you heard what?"

"I was by the door," Kyle said, pointing. "At first I thought it was a puppy or something, but I stopped and listened and it sounded like a girl crying. I couldn't get inside so I yelled and told her to wait and that I'd call the police."

"Where did you call the police from, Kyle?" Vivian wanted to know.

"That pay phone over there. My mom always told me to call 911 if something bad happens." The boy looked troubled. "Did something bad happen to that lady?"

Vivian closed her eyes briefly and gave him a sympathetic smile. "She's getting help thanks to you," she finally told him, and her answer seemed to satisfy, at least for the moment. "Kyle, when you were looking for your football, did you see anyone around here that you hadn't seen before? Did anyone look out of place?"

He shook his head slowly. "I didn't see anyone at all. I just looked around for a few minutes and then heard that lady crying."

"Thank you," Vivian told him sincerely. "You were a big help."

He nodded and gave her a lopsided smile before walking back to the officer who was waiting to drive him home.

*

When Jack's cell phone rang as he was speaking to one of the responding NYPD officers, he knew immediately who was calling and why, and so he hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering.

And as the medic told Jack he was sorry, but they had lost Margo Reed on the trip to the hospital, he saw Samantha making her way back over to the mess of police cars, officers and crime scene techs.

She looked up, met his eyes and knew in an instant she had been right.

He watched her hesitate, turn her palms over and examine them.

They were clean now, and yet somehow, they would never be.

TBC..


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimers in chapter one.

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind feedback; you guys are incredible.

*

Danny found himself engaged in an impromptu staring contest with Cameron Marks. 

The man was sitting forward on his worn couch, fingers laced together as he studied the agent. Danny watched him mildly while Martin and the other agents searched the apartment with Marks's consent.

Cameron Marks broke first, holding his hands up in the air.

"What are they looking for?" he asked Danny, gesturing to Martin and the others.

Danny leaned back against the wall. "It's not so much 'what', Cameron. It's got more to do with 'who', actually. And we already told you about that."

"Yeah, and _I_ told _you_ I had nothing to do with Margo and Dylan going missing," Cameron challenged.

"Try to see it from our perspective, okay? The twins go missing a month after you get out of jail for killing their older brother. Now, where would _you_ look for them?"

Cameron Marks shook his head angrily. "I didn't kill Will Bradshaw, and I didn't touch Margo or Dylan."

Danny told him, "We'll see," just as Martin came out from the back room, cell phone in hand, his face somber.

Danny frowned. "What's going on?"

"Got a call from Jack," Martin told him in a low voice. "Margo Reed just died of a gunshot wound. They found her alive in an old warehouse near Chelsea, but she didn't make it."

"Damn it," the other agent slammed his fist into the wall, and Cameron Marks's eyes grew wide.

Danny took a deep breath and asked, "What'd you find here?"

Martin shook his head. "Apartment's clean. No sign of Dylan, and it doesn't look like either of them were ever here."

"Great," Danny muttered, before turning back to Cameron. "You're coming with us."

"What?" Cameron's eyes flashed indignantly. "I didn't _do_ anything!"

"I know," Danny told him, holding up a hand. "But we need to talk to you. Whoever killed Will Bradshaw just killed his sister, and I'm thinking you know who that is."

Cameron started to protest, but it was a second too late.

"Come on, Cameron," Martin entreated. "Help us catch a killer and clear your name all at the same time."

The man remained silent, and Danny figured that was as much of an agreement as they were going to get.

"Let's go."

*

"You don't have to do this, you know."

Samantha waited until Jack had come to a stop in front of the Reed's home before responding with a quiet "I know."

Vivian had gone back to the office to wait for Danny and Martin and for ballistics to finish with the bullet and shell casing found at the scene, but Samantha had insisted on telling Simon Reed about Margo face-to-face.

Jack had gently taken the car keys from her still-trembling hands and told her he was going with her. 

And here they were, sitting together in silence, Jack's eyes on Samantha and Samantha's on the Reed's modest brownstone home.

"Sam.." Jack started, but Samantha's hand was on the door.

"I'm going," she told him quickly, and he followed her out of the car, up the front walk and to the wooden door.

Jack watched her reach out for the doorbell, hesitate for such a brief second that he knew no one else would ever have noticed, and press hard.

A few seconds later, Simon Reed appeared in the doorway. His eyes had a desperate, wild look to them, and they focused on Samantha as she tried to speak.

"Mr. Reed," she finally got out, and that was all it took.

Simon's face held like stone for a timeless moment, and then crumbled as if his bones had simply disintegrated with Samantha's shaky words.

He gripped the door for support, knuckles turning white with the effort of remaining upright.

"I'm sorry," Samantha whispered, and once she started, she couldn't stop. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." The words tumbled from her lips of their own accord until they ran together like a fast-moving river, and it was Jack's tentative, warm hand on her back that finally stopped the flood.

She allowed her eyes to slide closed briefly before forcing them open and training them firmly on the distraught Simon Reed.

"I'm sorry," she said one final time.

_I'm sorry it was me holding her hand at the end._

_I'm sorry we couldn't bring her back_

_I'm sorry.._

*

Cameron Marks looked vaguely uncomfortable in the small FBI interview room, but it was a familiar kind of uncomfortable, as though he'd been in a place like this before.

Which, Martin reflected, he probably had.

"Okay, Cameron," Danny started. "You didn't kill Will Bradshaw and you didn't kill Margo Reed. So who did?"

Cameron just shook his head helplessly. "I don't _know."_

"Yes, you do," Danny challenged, leaning in closer. "You know exactly who it was."

Martin glanced at Cameron and back at Danny before speaking. "Why don't you tell us everything you can, Cameron? No bullshitting, but we won't worry about the name right away."

"We don't have that kind of time," Danny muttered.

"We don't have time for him to clam up completely on us," Martin reminded Danny, who stared at him for a moment before dropping his head in a nod.

"Okay. Everything you know. About Will, about Margo, about Dylan, whatever."

Cameron leaned back in chair, a resigned look crossing his face. "Will and I were friends," he told the agents. "The two of us, sometimes we used to wonder how the hell we got in so deep. And Will was in _deep_. Twenty grand in debt is not a place you want to be when you're nineteen years old."

Danny figured it wasn't a place you wanted to be no matter your age, but he said nothing.

"Anyway, Will wasn't coming up with the money. He was broke and he was scared, and then he was dead. I had no reason to kill him. He didn't owe me any money, but the cops didn't have anyone else to pin it on, and my print.."

"Look, no one's accusing you of murder, here," Martin told Cameron. "You don't have to defend yourself, but you do need to give us something better than that."

Cameron dropped his head into his hands. When he looked up, there was a grim determination etched across his features.

"You'll probably find this out anyway; I was there."

Danny and Martin exchanged quick glances.

"When Will was murdered?"

Cameron shook his head.

"When Margo was kidnapped."

The room fell silent.

"Cameron.." Danny finally started in a warning tone. "I think you better tell us everything. Now."

Wringing his hands, Cameron looked pleadingly at the agents. "I found out where she worked, what time she got off. I just wanted to talk to her. I swear, I never would have done anything to hurt her. I was about to go up to her when..when he came from behind, walked out with her."

"Why did you want to talk to Margo?" Martin asked quickly.

"Ten years ago, at the trial. I'd just been convicted, and before they took me away.." Cameron's voice trailed off as he remembered. "Before they took me away, she looked right at me and she said she was sorry. She _knew_," Cameron said forcefully. "She knew I didn't kill her brother. I wanted to talk to her to find out how."

"Hold up," Danny frowned in confusion. "You were in the lot that day? You were there when Margo walked out of the hospital?"

Cameron nodded. "Yeah. I was waiting for her there."

"Jesus," Danny spat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He turned to Martin. "There were three people on camera in the parking lot, three people with appointments at the hospital that ended around the time Margo left. Two men. Ben McClennan checked out, but if Cameron was the other man on camera.."

"Maybe whoever took Margo _did have an appointment," Martin said slowly._

Danny's next, fierce words were directed at Cameron Marks, who had been watching the exchange warily.

"A name, Cameron. We need a name. Right now. If you're scared, we'll protect you. We can keep you safe, but we. Need. A. Name."

Heavy silence hung in the room. Cameron's eyes swung wildly from Danny's to Martin's, and he ran a hand over his mouth before answering in a soft voice.

"Jimmy Larkin."

*

_I didn't know she was going to go missing.._

Samantha's eyes flew first to Jack's, then to Vivian's as the three agents processed Cameron Marks's words from outside the questioning room.

Jimmy Larkin.

James Larkin. 

"Our witness," Vivian said in disgust, shaking her head.

"We had him," Samantha whispered, her tone bordering on amazement. "We had him."

"We'll get him again," Jack promised grimly.

_Wish I could help you out.._

Samantha's hands clenched into fists, and she pressed them hard against her eyes.

_We had him.._

_I'm sorry, Margo.._

TBC..


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimers, etc., in chapter one.

A/N: This is almost the end..thank you so much to everyone for your incredibly kind reviews! You kept me going.

*

"James Larkin?" Danny repeated, staring hard at Cameron Marks. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Cameron replied a bit uneasily. "Jimmy killed Will and he was the one in the lot with Margo."

"How do you know Larkin had anything to do with Will's murder?" Martin asked quickly.

Cameron rubbed his temples, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment before answering. "Will got all his stuff from Jimmy. When he needed drugs, that's who he went to. He did a little dealing for him, lost some money..Will owed Jimmy a lot. But that's not how I know it was him."

There was a pause, and Danny raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"My print on the shell casing," Cameron explained, shaking his head. "A few days before Will was killed, I was at Jimmy's picking some stuff up. He had a few rounds sitting on a table in his basement, asked me to get them for him. Hell, I knew he had a gun; I didn't think anything of it. But my prints would have been all over those shells."

Danny and Martin exchanged quick glances.

"Why didn't you bring it up at the trial?"

Cameron just shrugged, though he looked a bit disgusted with himself. "I didn't think of it. Besides, I wasn't sure how deep in debt Will was. I didn't know he owed Jimmy twenty grand, that's for sure."

"James Larkin has already killed Margo," Martin reiterated for Cameron. "He's got Dylan, and ten thousand dollars from him. You have any idea what his next move is going to be?"

Cameron frowned in thought. "He's going to want his money," he finally replied. "All of it."

*

"You said Dylan Bradshaw has three bank accounts?" Jack asked Samantha once the team had gathered back at the center of the unit.

"Right," she confirmed, glancing down at her notes. "He made two five thousand dollar withdrawals, one from Millennium and one from Sovereign. That leaves First Union."

"Cameron Marks is sure that James Larkin's goal is his money," Martin offered.

"So why kidnap Dylan at all?" Vivian wanted to know. "Why not just up the ransom to twenty-thousand in the first place?"

The table fell silent.

"Except that Cameron doesn't know Dylan and Margo were witnesses to Will's murder," Jack finally pointed out. "He thinks Margo knew something, but he doesn't know they were there."

"So this way, Larkin gets his money and gets rid of his witnesses at the same time," Samantha finished bitterly.

"Why wait, though?" Danny looked perplexed. "Will was killed ten years ago."

"Because Cameron Marks was just released. Until now, James Larkin hasn't had any reason to worry; someone's been paying for his crime. Cameron's out, so Margo and Dylan became a threat again," Jack responded.

"You're a little too good at this, you know that?" Danny said with a small grin.

"Yeah, well, it's been a long time," Jack replied. "Danny and Martin, take a team of agents and head to James Larkin's house. Sam and Viv, we're going to First Union. I have a feeling James and Dylan have been there recently, or are going to be there soon."

As the team got up to leave the table, Jack motioned to Samantha.

In a low voice, he spoke once the others were out of earshot.

"You sure you're okay to do this?" Concern was etched across his features, but Samantha's mouth set in a hard line.

"I'm fine," she told him firmly, and then her defenses fell, if only slightly. "The last thing Margo said..she said she was sorry. That she tried, and she mentioned Dylan. She tried to warn him, Jack, and she knew it didn't work." Samantha shook her head, resolve setting in her dark eyes. "I'm ready."

"Good," Jack told her simply. "Good."

*

James Larkin lived only a few short blocks from Cameron Marks, which meant he only lived a few short blocks from the home Will, Margo and Dylan grew up in. 

It wasn't a particularly rough neighborhood, Danny had noted when they'd arrived earlier to wait for Cameron, and he felt the same on their return trip.

It wasn't a particularly rough neighborhood, but as he had learned time and time again, that meant nothing.

Rolling up alongside James Larkin's less-than-modest looking house, Danny and Martin exited their vehicle first, sending some of the others around the back.

They approached the door, and Danny quickly announced their presence. 

No answer.

Martin and Danny exchanged glances in a silent debate before Danny stood back and forced the door open.

*

The street in front of First Union was crowded, packed tight with activity, and Samantha's eyes flicked over the congested sidewalk, half searching for James Larkin and Dylan, and half assessing the damage that might result if a takedown was necessary. The bank's small parking lot, she realized, was the least dense in terms of bystanders. 

Jack ordered the back-up team to be ready, but remain on the street for the moment. Leaving the government issued vehicle, he, Vivian, and Samantha made their way through the throngs of New Yorkers and were about to enter the bank when a quick movement in the parking lot caught Samantha's eye.

Two men, leaving through the side door.

One walked slightly in front of the other, head bent.

The other was pressed against the first man's side, holding a small bag in his left hand.

His head was covered in a black baseball cap.

"Jack!" Samantha gasped, pointing to the men before taking off. She slipped frantically through the crowd, straining to keep them in her line of vision even as she was bumped left and right by the multitude of people oblivious to the intensity of the situation.

"Samantha!" Jack's voice behind her again, but this time it was just to let her know he was right with her, and so she forced ahead.

"FBI! Freeze!" Drawing her weapon, Samantha reached the lot with Jack and Vivian on her heels just as James Larkin and Dylan Bradshaw arrived at a small, black vehicle.

In James Larkin's moment of indecision, Dylan backed away from him to reveal the gun the other man had been holding against his back.

James Larkin stared at the three agents and the back-up rapidly approaching with cool, dark eyes shaded by his New York Knicks cap, and Samantha glared back, heart pounding, her entire being set to operate on instinct instead of thought, as was so often needed in situations such as these.

Palpable tension hung in the chilled air, but disintegrated a second and a lifetime later, when James Larkin set his weapon and the duffel bag down on the concrete.

"Cuff him," Jack ordered coolly.

Dylan Bradshaw tore his eyes from James Larkin's arrest to his rescuers, and when they settled on Samantha, it was Margo Reed all over again, except this time, this time..

This time, her hands were clean and the air was no longer suffocating her.

This time, she told herself, it was okay.

TBC..


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimers and everything else in chapter one.

A/N: This is it..thank you so much to everyone who stuck with me. You all are so incredible and I can't thank you enough.

*

Jillian Bradshaw gripped Dylan's hand tightly in her own and whispered something to him as he answered a few, final questions, and Samantha wondered idly what the other woman was saying.

Samantha had given him the news in the parking lot of First Union. She hadn't planned it, but under the scrutiny of those raw green eyes, she'd looked down at her hands and told him quietly that Margo was dead.

She'd expected an explosion of rage, expected to have to hold him back from the cuffed James Larkin, but she wasn't prepared for the simple bend of his head toward the ground, a movement that turned skyward as hot tears made their way down his pale cheeks and clashed with the chilled air of the afternoon.

There was no surprise in Dylan's tortured reaction, just the searing ache that accompanies the complete and total loss of hope.

He'd known, then, Samantha decided there in the parking lot.

Somehow, he'd known about Margo before she spoke a word and maybe he'd heard it from James Larkin, maybe the man had bragged about his kill, but Samantha didn't think so.

Close, Simon Reed had described Margo and Dylan. Close enough that when the bullet passed through Margo and the life finally left her, Dylan had felt it too?

Samantha watched through the glass as Jillian Bradshaw wrapped an arm tightly around her husband.  She wondered, and then admitted it didn't matter, not really.

One lost, one found.

Maybe someday, he could be whole again.

*

"James Larkin's not saying a word about Will Bradshaw but the bullet found at Margo's scene is identical to the bullet that killed Will," Vivian told Samantha as she erased the timeline from the whiteboard. 

"Good. That's good," Samantha replied softly.

Vivian looked at her curiously before nodding. "Yeah," the older woman answered. "You should get out of here," Vivian commented off-handly, gathering her things. "It's getting late."

"I'm leaving in a minute," Samantha responded, forcing a smile. "See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Samantha."

*

He watched her through the glass windows in his office, making no attempt to disguise his staring as sorting paperwork or preparing to leave, as he had done so many times before. 

Tonight, he watched freely as she held the two pictures in her hands; watched her scrutinize them, the faces so alike and so very different, both captured forever alive in the brief moments in time that she held.

She'd like to keep them that way, Jack knew, and as she set the photographs down and her eyes slid closed, he felt her quiet ache as if it were his own.

Maybe it was. Maybe it always had been.

And maybe she felt him, too, felt his eyes and his pain across the hall and through the glass, because in that moment she turned from the pictures to his face.

Their eyes locked, and for a timeless second, an unbounded eternity, there were no barriers between them.

Not the glass walls and door that boxed him in, not what they were now or what they had been before, and she was running through his veins like the searing heat of a bullet through flesh or the icy crash of a wave on the shore.

But it was just a moment, and when it ended and her eyes dropped, he was left with only her aftertaste, a remembrance of the feel of her with him, around him, in him and above him, and if only to capture that forever like faces in a photograph, he whispered her name.

"Samantha.."

She couldn't hear him, didn't know he'd dropped her name like a sacred prayer, but somehow, she looked back anyway.

The smile reached his eyes just as they met hers.

[end]


End file.
